


I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love

by annacpeyxo



Series: The Rise And Fall Of My Chemical Romance [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Bullets Era, F/M, I Blame Tumblr, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3398558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annacpeyxo/pseuds/annacpeyxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I can remember watching the towers fall. Everyone in my office crowding round the window, staring at the destruction taking place only a couple of miles away.<br/>I can remember when people starting screaming, and when we were all shocked back into reality and starting running.<br/>I can remember making sure that the others got out before me, because if I died no one would really care.<br/>I can remember turning back as I walked down the street, coughing the rancid air up from my lungs.<br/>I can remember hurrying back to my apartment and sitting there, staring at the wall.<br/>I can remember writing a song.<br/>A song that started everything.'<br/>Gerard Way watched the twin towers fall. Now he's ready to watch the rest of the world fall. Fall at the knees of chemical romance. Along with his brother, Mikey, and Mikey's friends Ray and Frank, they start up a band. Not only a band, but the beginning of an era.<br/>The beginning of an idea.<br/>xoxo<br/>Unauthorised duplication is a violation of applicable laws and will result in Gerard coming to your house and sucking your blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One - Gerard

**Author's Note:**

> This is also up on Wattpad, if you'd prefer to read it there. My account there is annacpeymustdie, so go knock yourselves out.  
> This is just what I thought happened, and is in no way necessarily true.

I can remember watching the towers fall. Everyone in my office crowding round the window, staring at the destruction taking place only a couple of miles away.

I can remember when people starting screaming, and when we were all shocked back into reality and starting running.

I can remember making sure that the others got out before me, because if I died no one would really care.

I can remember turning back as I walked down the street, coughing the rancid air up from my lungs.

I can remember hurrying back to my apartment and sitting there, staring at the wall.

I can remember writing a song.

A song that started everything.

I called my brother that night.

"Gee? Thank God you're okay." I could hear the worry in his voice, but I should have expected it. After all, if my building had been any closer to the World Trade Center, I would most likely be dead. I mean, I was lucky to get out alive, but I didn't feel lucky. I felt like the unluckiest person in the world.

"Hey, Mikes. Would it be okay with Mom if I came down for a couple of days?" I didn't tell him that I planned that 'couple of days' would turn into a couple of months.

"Well, why are you calling me? She always has her mobile on, and we'd have answered the landline."

"Because she'd panic, you know how she is. Can you just ask her? And don't mention that I'm on the phone." That's why I liked Mikey. He didn't ask too many questions.

"Mom! Do you want me to call Gee and see if he wants to come down for a couple days?" I heard a muffled shout in response before my younger brother drew in a breath and came back to the phone. "She says yes."

"Good. I'll be down first thing tomorrow." Before I could put the phone down he mumbled my name.

"Gerard... Have you... you know... um..."

"Spit it out, Mikes, I haven't got all day." I felt a bit irritated. He was obviously gonna ask a question, and I think I already knew what it was.

"Have you been drinking?"

That question brought back so many thoughts.

The night when a bar wouldn't serve me anymore and I'd threatened the bartender.

When I was so wasted I tripped on the way home and fell asleep in someone's doorway.

At the work party where I'd taken as much alcohol as I could carry home and sat in the corner, staring at the blank wall and feeling the will to live drain out of me.

"I don't wanna talk about it right now, Mikey. I'll tell you when I get there, alright?" I heard him take in a shaky breath and then the dialling tone. I could never lie to Mikey, but he knew that I'd wanted to. I doubted he'd talk to me for a couple hours after I got there, but it was a curse I'd have to live with. He was my brother, after all.

I stood up from the floor, stepped over the paper I'd scrawled those first few lines on, and dragged myself to the fridge, where I pulled out a six-pack of beer.

Tonight was gonna be a rough night.

~~

~ The broken city sky like butane on my skin ~

~ Stolen from my eyes ~

~ Hello Angel, tell me where you are ~

~ Tell me where we go from here ~

~~

I woke up the next morning with a horrible headache, cramp in my neck from where I'd been leaning against the wall, and a fresh coat of poison on my lips. I dragged an arm across my face, cursing the god of hangovers and pushing myself to my feet. After kicking the pile of bottles into a corner I pulled a jacket on, grabbed my keys, my sketchbook and the sheet of lyrics, and shuffled down ten flights of stairs to my car.

New Jersey, here I come.

~~

~ That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest ~

~ And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence ~

~ And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now ~

~~

"Gerard Arthur Way, why didn't you answer the phone last night?" My mom jumps at me as soon as she opens the door, burying her head in my shoulder and not releasing the choke hold she has around my neck until I'm blue in the face. I laugh half-heartedly, watching my dad roll his eyes behind her back.

"I didn't hear it ring, Ma." I smiled as she cupped my face with her hands, looking down into those almost identical eyes. Donna Way was an amazing woman, but she'd always be my mom. I couldn't escape those hazel eyes even if I got contacts.

"Hey, son." My dad, Don, grins and reaches forward to hug me. He hasn't seen me for three months, since last time I came back he was on a business trip. Well, a 'business' trip. He must've missed me more than usual.

"Hi." I pulled back as soon as I could from this awkward embrace. It was full of memories: him screaming at me when I came back late, eyes bloodshot; him blaming me for the time when I was held at gunpoint and the police brought me home; him asking me why I couldn't be a normal kid. He was never a good dad, and he never would be. My memories had ruined his chances at a normal relationship with me.

I felt Mikey before I saw him. I was almost lifted off my feet by his clumsy embrace, and had to stagger back a few feet before I could hug him back. I could tell he was grinning in that goofy way he always did. Sometimes he was such a dork, but he was a loveable dork. The best dork you could ever set eyes on.

"Dude, you're twenty, you gotta stop doing this. You're too old." I pushed him away, failing to wipe the stupid smile of my face when he pushed his bed hair back from his eyes. My old Iron Maiden t-shirt was almost thrown over his skinny frame, jeans hanging off his hips like a sheet. He'd gotten so skinny he looked like a stick, and, even though kids weren't supposed to grow past nineteen, but I swear Mikes had taken the opportunity to add an extra year.

"You're never too old to be a brother, big bro." He smirked, and we all stood in a circle like the most awkward family gathering ever. My mom made the first move, edging towards the kitchen and flicking the kettle on. She knew me way too well.

"You still take it black, hun?" She asked, whacking my brother on the arm when he started laughing. Dick.

"Yeah. Two sugars, Ma." I followed Mikey to the sofa, collapsing on top of him when he took my seat. He rolled his eyes, elbowing me in the ribs to try and make me move. He didn't succeed.

"Fuck you, dude."

"Hey. Respect your elders." I propped my legs up on the table, almost sitting completely on his lap. Advantages to having a taller brother.

"Oh, sorry, Gee, I forgot you were an old man." I got him in a headlock before he could finish his sentence and tried to ignore my dad rolling his eyes as we grappled, laughing. My mom managed to save the coffee just in time when Mikey's foot came flying out of our tangle of limbs, tutting as she set it down. We stopped fighting straight away and grabbed the cups, almost slurping it down. As our neighbours used to say, 'the Way brothers and their coffee.'

"You boys will never grow up, will you?" She kicked my feet aside, sitting down next to me and sipping at her drink.

"That's why you love us, Mom!" Mikey smiled, glasses steaming up.

"God help me." She chuckled. It was the infamous Mom laugh, which we'd heard since we were kids. Even when we used two broken chair legs as lightsabers, Ma never got mad. She left that to Dad.

"So, Gerard, when do you go back to work?" My dad leant forward in his chair and I immediately started to panic. The one thing I'd wanted to leave until tomorrow, and that asshole just had to bring it up again.

"Well, I guess I should tell you... Um... I quit my job last night..." I was met with complete silence. My mom sat there with a hand over her mouth, looking at my dad. Mikey was as well. In fact, all of us were. We were all waiting for his reaction. We were all scared.

"What?" He spat through gritted teeth, fists clenched.

"Don-" Mom was interrupted before she could fail her attempt at calming him down when he shot up, looming over me. Suddenly I felt like I was three years old again.

"Gerard Arthur Way, if you were hoping to live off of our pity you got it fucking wrong. I am not going to support you again." I tried to hold it back, but I couldn't take it. Mikes always hated it when me and Dad argued, but he was bringing it on himself.

"You've never supported me in my whole fucking life! I had to pay for my own school trips, you were always out God knows where fucking around with God knows who, me and Mom practically raised Mikey ourselves, and Grandma? When the fuck were you ever there for Grandma, huh? Who's the one who went to see her every day? Who's the one who sat with her before her operations so she wouldn't get scared? Who's the only one who has ever given a shit about her? Me."

"Gee-" Mikey tried to pull me back down to my seat and away from Dad, but I shook out of his grip. He's not gonna get involved in this. He's not gonna get hurt again.

My dad sucked in a breath and I could almost see the warning signs. He was not going to like my idea.

"And what are you planning to do now?"

"I spoke to Matt last night and we're gonna start a band." I stared up at him defiantly, wishing I had Mikey's height advantage. His eyes got twenty shades darker and he was red in the face.

"Get out of my house."

"No." It wasn't me who spoke. It was my brother, who stood up next to me and folded his arms. I felt kinda grateful. He was protecting me just like I'd protected him when we were younger, and now we were standing together.

"I wasn't talking to you, Michael. What are you planning to do with your life anyway? You can't stay at that dead-end comic store your whole life. I won't let you." Dad turned his attention to Mikey, seeing past his poker face.

"If Gee wants to start a band... I'm gonna join it." I gasped as he turned to look down at me, eyebrows drawn together. "Frank lent me a bass and he thinks I'm pretty good. Could I?"

"Of course you can, bro. I'd love that." We were pulled out of our little family moment by an intake of breath. Obnoxious bastard.

"Donna, do you agree with this?" He turned to my mom, expecting her to support him like she always did. We all thought she would, but she went against our expectations.

"Yes, I do." She came to stand in between her sons, wrapping an arm around each of them. "I believe in them, and they can stay as long as they want. They're my boys."

"For fuck's sake... I'm out." With one last huff he barged past us and out of the door, leaving only the jangle of his keys behind him.

We just stood there for a couple of minutes until I heard quiet sniffing and looked down to see Mom crying. Me and Mikey made a simultaneous decision to move closer, and we enveloped her in an awkward family hug, because we were a family, and that dickhead wasn't part of it.

~~

~ You're not in this alone ~

~ Let me break this awkward silence ~

~ Let me go, go on record ~

~ Be the first to say I'm sorry ~

~~

About an hour later I took Mikey down to see Grandma. Mom was at home watching one of her reality shows, we had Iron Maiden on at full blast. It was good. Until Mikey brought up our conversation last night.

"Are you gonna answer my question?" He turned down the music slightly as we span round a corner, wincing at my driving.

"What question, Mikester?" I brought back the old nickname, trying to distract him. All he did was punch me in the arm before continuing. It was pretty hard to distract. I'd have to almost crash the car to make him drop the subject.

"Have you been drinking?"

The question loomed in front of me, and suddenly I felt like I was gonna vomit, which was probably half from the hangover and half from the prospect of talking to my brother about this sort of stuff. But I had to answer, and so I did.

"Look, Mikes, I'm not gonna lie to you, so yes. I have." I tried to end the conversation there, even though that was practically impossible. He looked shocked for a moment before he brought back on his poker face. I knew he was sad inside, but he wouldn't show it. He was like me. I was the only one who saw the scars on his fourteen year old skin as anything but cat scratches.

"Gee, you promised." He sounded like the broken kid I'd left five years ago for college. He sounded sick.

"Well, I moved to New York, Mikey, what did you expect?" I snapped, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.

"I expected my brother."

"And that's who you got."

~~

~ We walk in single file ~

~ We light our rails and punch our time ~

~ Ride escalators colder than a cell ~

~~

"You took your time in coming back to see me, young man." Elena smiled at me as I walked through the doorway, closely followed by Mikey. He was still upset, I could tell. I couldn't stop it though, and that killed me.

"Hey, Grandma." I hugged her tightly, returning the almost bone-crushing hug she always gave me. I hadn't seen her for two months, and the last time I was not in a good state. I snuck in here in the middle of the night drunk and almost gave her a heart attack, but she still sat up with me and sang a song to me until I went to sleep and wouldn't let the carers take me away. She was the strongest woman I knew. She always would be.

"And Mikey! I haven't seen you for ages, and you can't expect an old woman to text, you know." She let go of me to lean forward and hug MIkey's lanky frame. Usually when he was younger a hug from Grandma would make him spill all his feeling, but I guess he'd grown up. His expression stayed completely comatose all the way through.

"You only come running to me when there's a problem, so what is it?" Before I can open my mouth to protest she jumps back in. "You know it's true, Gerard, don't try to come up with excuses."

"Well, I quit my job." I expect a shitstorm, but just get an amazingly broad grin.

"Good. I never liked those bosses of yours, they never gave you enough time off." Mikey smirked slightly, looking down at his shoes and trying to get the mud of one of the soles.

"Lemme finish, Grandma. Me and Matt-"

"Who's Matt? Is that the one with the afro or the one with the neck tattoo?" Elena interrupted me, looking in between me and Mikes.

"Neither, Gran. He's the one with the crew cut." Mikey explained, probably wanting to hear her reaction to what me and 'the one with the crew cut' had decided.

"Okay. Carry on, Gerard." She looked up at me and I gulped. If she didn't like it, we weren't doing it, that's for sure.

"Me and Matt were thinking of starting a band."

"Finally!" She grinned, making me do a double take and Mikey go so pale he looked like a ghost.

"What?" We both said in unison, staring in disbelief.

"You know, I've been waiting eleven years for one of you to say that. And yes, I support it, and yes, I'm not going to disown you like my son probably will." She was like a psychic.

"Grandma, have I ever told you how much I love you?" I sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her so tightly I couldn't breathe. She pushed me away and patted my chest.

"Too much."

~~

~ And in this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes ~

~ Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallen vapours ~

~ Steel corpses stretch out towards an endless sun, scorched and black ~

~ It reaches in and tears you flesh apart ~

~ As ice cold hands rip into your heart ~

~~

At ten o'clock that night I sat on the floor in Mikey's room and called Matt.

"Hey, Gee. You got anything sorted yet?" He answered with a gruff voice. I'd obviously just woken him up. He sounded a bit pissed. Hopefully my news would change that.

"I got us some band members." I could hear him sit up, struggling against the mattress.

"Who?"

"I don't know if they'll say yes, but I was thinking Mikey's friends. You know, Toro and Frank?" I'd heard that Ray was guitar legend, and the Iero kid had always brought his guitar over to our house when he could.

"Sure. Anyway, you can tell 'em?"

"I can do better than that. We'll see you tomorrow."

~~

~ Tell me where we go from here ~


	2. Chapter Two - Gerard

"Gee, can you get the fuck off my legs?" Mikey kicked at my ribs, yawning loudly and readjusting his pillow. We'd fallen asleep watching yet another zombie movie, and shitloads of Doritos had been crushed under our combined body weight. We'd gone back to the nights when he was twelve and I'd scared him crapless with The Conjuring. He'd cried for about an hour before I brought him into my room and let him sleep in my bed.

"Mikes, can your legs get the fuck off my butt?" He gave in, moving sideways and groaning. I buried my head further into the mattress, trying to block out the light that was streaming into his bedroom. I wish he'd let Mom put some fucking blinds up.

"My mouth is on fire..." He moaned. I was not in the mood for a chat when my retinas were being burned by the fucking sun. I dug my heel into Mikey's back until he moved, mumbling curse words as I pull myself up. My throat's itching for a smoke. I'll need to slip outside before Mom realises I'm up. She'd never approve of my many habits.

"Wake up, asshole. You're lying on my jacket."

"You're the fucking asshole, Gee." I shoved him, watching the horror on his face as he toppled over the edge of the bed. I was surprised he didn't crash through the floor. We didn't have the strongest floor. "I hate you."

"Good." I pulled my hoody on, checking that the cigarettes were still in there. If they weren't... I don't know what I would've done. Stepping round the comics and dirty plates strewn over the floor, I headed out the door and towards the stairs. That bang probably woke my mom up, so I only have a maximum of three minutes before she realises that one of us could have died. Enough time for a quickie, if I could get out the door.

I grabbed my lighter from my back pocket and lit one up, leaning against the wall and dragging in the biggest breath I could. Taking in as much death as I could in one go. How many years could I get rid of with this one?

Looking round at the small world in my old back yard, I realised just how much it had changed. When me and Mikey were younger, probably up to when he was ten, it would be covered in toy lightsabers and capes that we'd dropped as soon as Dad had called us in to do homework. The ditches that we'd made in the flower beds for hiding places had been filled in, which was kind of sad. It was just another memory that had been hidden.

A couple of years had passed, and it was where me and my dad would take our arguments. Screaming matches outside, Mikey's tear-stained face pressed up against the window. They would always end with me, sitting here crying while Mikey ran towards me and hugged me. We'd sit there for about ten minutes, quietly sobbing while our parents continued the shouting.

It was amazing how something that contained such amazing memories could also hide the worst ones in your life.

Suddenly I felt buzzing at the bottom of my leg, and pulled up my pant leg to find my phone, jammed into my sock. I didn't know how it had gotten there, probably something to do with the stupid position I'd woken up in this morning. I answered the call. Probably my ex-boss. Or Molly. Maybe she hadn't got the message that I'd left not only Cartoon Network, but also her. I was not in the mood to explain it to her.

"Hello?"

"Gee Way! I didn't realise you were back in town!" It was one person I needed to speak to. Ray Toro, otherwise known as Afro Kid. He sounded like a fucking superhero.

"Hey, Toro. Yeah. I came back." I took a drag on my cigarette, already getting bored. I'm surprised all the doctors I'd seen hadn't diagnosed me with ADHD. It would make sense, with all the other bullshit that I supposedly had.

"Why?"

"I wanted to..." I didn't really wanna go into detail with a guy I hadn't spoken to for five years. We were never exactly best buds. In fact, I had no idea how he got my number. It must've been Mikey. What a dick.

"Oh... Okay! You fancy meeting up later? I mean, I just need to finish my shift at the store, and then we could go for a drink or something." He was practically making my plans for me, but I knew my brother wouldn't let me step anywhere near alcohol while I was here. We might have to make a change to the location.

"What about our house? My parents will be out, and Matt was coming round anyway."

"Sure! Okay, I'll see you then. If I don't get back to work Chris will kill me." He actually sounded like he didn't want to hang up. It must be a shit comic store if Ray Toro didn't like it there. I'd have to go check it out.

"See ya." I put the phone down, making a mental list of what I needed to do.

1) Grab a coffee from Starbucks.

2) Take a trip to the Ieros'.

Major Catholics? Here I come.

~~

~ Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun ~

~ Scorched and black ~

~~

Sipping at a caramel macchiato and stubbing out my second cigarette of the day, I pulled outside the Iero house. Flowers lined the windows, the walls whitewashed to a shine. They always managed to keep everything so clean. With a son like Frank, it was an achievement on his mom's part.

I climbed out of my car, slamming the door behind me and walking up the stone path. It had hardly changed since I last came up here, dropping Frank off after he'd had an asthma attack at my house and insisted on walking home.

"Gerard!" Before I'd even knocked the door Ms Iero was outside, wrapping her arms around me. "You've grown up so much!" I don't know why she's saying that. I'm still the same me. Exactly the same as when I was eighteen. And that's what pisses me off.

"Hey..." I tried to push her away, but she must have taken the hint as she moved back. "Is Frank here?"

"He's downstairs at band practice. He did say he'd kill me if I came down, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if it was you. Head on down." I grinned thankfully at her, heading down to the basement. Frank probably would kill me, but oh well. He wouldn't care if I mentioned a band. He would skip this band in a heartbeat for us. I was almost sure of it.

I could already hear the music. Loud, angsty stuff with a lot of screaming and guitar. Like a mix of Iron Maiden and Nirvana, but it worked. Sort of.

As soon as I opened the door, Frank was already screaming abuse at me.

"Mom, I told you to stay out-" His face dropped we he saw me, a mixture of confusion and anger, and then pure glee. I guess he liked me more than I thought. "Gee!" He ran towards me, hugging more than I thought a guy his size could.

"Hey, Frankie." I hugged him back, having to prop myself up against the bottom step. We'd fall if I didn't.

"Where the fuck have you been, you dick?" He growled into my shoulder, probably still angry. Typical Frank.

"New York." I chuckled, stopping when I caught sight of his bandmates staring at us, instruments hanging from their hands. "Why don't we stand up?" He pushed himself up, helping me up. He was beaming.

"You ass!" He shoved me, looking at me like I was God or something.

"I am, in fact, a human, Mr Iero." I raised an eyebrow at him, looking round at the guys around me. "Also, I came here for a reason."

"What, to scare the shit out of me? Cause mission accomplished, Way." Here goes.

"Well, um, I know this is probably a bad time to ask, but me and Matt were thinking, and we're gonna start a band, so-"

"Cool, dude!" He interrupted me, smiling.

"I'm not finished! We were wondering if... you'd like to be in it?" I was met with silence and a fallen smile. God.

"Gee... I'm in my own band-" I should've probably let him finish, but my stubbornness wouldn't let me.

"So? You were always saying that we should start a band together, and now we can."

"But Gee - I'm serious about this. I'm not leaving for you." He looked up at me, almost scared.

"Oh." A million thoughts raced through my head in one second. Shit.

"I'm sorry." Before he could finish I turned back and started to walk out. He started telling me to wait but I ignored him, and he already knew it wouldn't be smart to come after me. He knew where I was going. Everyone knew where I was going after something didn't work out.

I was going to get high.

High off depression.

~~

~ And if you take me down ~

~ Or would you lay me out ~

~~

"Hey, Toro!" I could here Mikey from our front room, sprawled out across the sofa as he answered to door. I was still feeling pretty triumphant from the mini argument we'd had a couple of minutes ago about who should answer. Obviously, I'd won. The only thing I had to bring up was Sparkles.

One mention of that stuffed little fucker and he was silent.

"Hi, Mikes. Is Gee here?" I heard his guitar hit the doorframe as he walked through. For a kid who used it as an extra limb, his spacial awareness with that stupid case wasn't very good.

"Yeah. He's on the sofa being a little bitch." He made sure I could hear that last bit, probably trying to annoy me. He never even came close.

"Hey there, Afro Kid!" I called, grinning at him as he opened the door. He held out a hand for a high five, and I decided to get off my butt to oblige him. Mikey made a face behind him that was screaming 'you fucking dick'. Ha.

"Where's Matt?" Ray asked, resting his precious guitar against the table and flopping into a chair. Mikey walked around me again, kicking my feet out the way. I was gonna have to deal with the Way bitchface all night. Fantastic.

"Kitchen." My brother mumbled, probably angry about the fact that our so-called friend was clearing out our fridge. Mom was not gonna be happy.

"Oh. I should've known." Speak of the devil, Matt walked in at that very moment, collapsing onto the carpet with a smoothie that looked like it contained some form of shit. Well, that did explain the strange smell coming from the hallway.

"So, where's Frankie?" He looked between the three of us, then his focus flicked to the seat next to me, as if he expected Iero to be under an Invisibility Cloak or something.

"He doesn't wanna be involved." I almost whispered, hoping that someone else would repeat it, but they'd heard it all right. And God, were they pissed.

"What? What the fuck do you mean?" Mikey took his feet off the table, glaring at me. Ray and Matt mimicked his expression. Yeah. I'm fucked.

"Well, he's already in a band..." I decided to leave the part about not wanting to join us. If I did, poor little Frank would have his head kicked in by the two men in front of me. And Mikey.

"So fucking what?" Matt bellowed, making my mom's ornaments shake. Not happy at all.

"Okay. Let's calm down. I mean, we don't need a rhythm guitarist!" Ray, who looked pretty uncomfortable with the whole thing, was the one trying to mediate. He was either gonna get punched or hugged. I hadn't decided which. "We have a guitarist, a bassist, a drummer, and a singer. It's good enough!"

Matt had a thunderous look on his face, but before he could act my phone rang. It was a shrill sound, almost boring through our skulls, but it seemed to diffuse the tension slightly. I answered. At least Matt would have time to think about what he was saying so he didn't offend anyone. As per usual.

"Hello?"

"Gerard?" Frank sounded worried. I was worried. He wasn't the type to apologise, and he certainly wasn't inviting us to a picnic: what on earth did he want?

"Hey, Iero." When Matt found out who it was he made a mood to snatch the phone but Ray grabbed his arm. Toro wasn't exactly the strongest person, but it looked like he was holding as tight as he could, and it was obviously enough to knock some sense into the other guy.

"Sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to be mean, it's just my fucking band... They were all watching and I didn't wanna look like a pansy, 'kay?" He seemed sorry. That was a big achievement from Frank Iero, toughest midget in high school.

"I know, Frankie. Don't worry about it." I caught eye contact with Mikey, who was incredibly close to shouting out 'are you gonna fucking ask him or not?'. "So, any second thoughts? Or is that all you called for?"

"Well, no, I'm not gonna join the band, but I have an offer you won't be able to refuse." He sounded unbelievably creepy. If he was gonna offer sex like a couple of years ago it'd be a straight up refusal. No pondering like last time.

"Hit me."

"I've talked to my mom and she's completely fine if you wanna use our basement for a practice room." A grin split my face in half as soon as he said that. If he was there, I would've hugged him.

"Have I ever told you how much I want to marry you right now?" I ignored Mikey's skeptical look, opting to say for yet the fifth time that no, I'm not gay, and no, I do not have a crush on his high school best friend.

"Little gay there, Gee." Frank laughed.

"So is you calling me to apologise like a dorky boyfriend."

"Fuck you."

"Sorry, Frankie, but I'm straight. Now fuck off." I unceremoniously put the phone down, laughing at how stupid I must've sounded. I was gonna get punched in the ribs next time I saw him. I wouldn't doubt it.

"What the hell was that?" Ray laughed, hair going everywhere as he bent over.

"We can use Frankie's basement!" I sung, throwing my arms in the air. Matt and Mikey both looked like they'd just seen an alien.

"Kinda gay, Gerard." Mikey mumbled, giving me a rare smile.

"Says the unicorn lover!" I shouted, feeling happy for the first time in a couple years. It was all going as planned.

I was excited.

~~

~ Well I'll choose the life I've taken ~

~ Never mind the friends I'm making ~

~ And the beauty that I'm faking ~

~ Lets me live my life like this ~

~~

Three hours later, my ex-girlfriend phoned.

And she was not happy.

"Gerard, where the fuck are you and what the fuck was that message?" Her voice almost broke my eardrums. This was going to be a fun call.

"Molly, I'm in New Jersey, and that message was me telling you I'm leaving you. I said it pretty clearly. Are you going deaf?"

"Shut the fuck up, you dick! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Everything. Oh, and don't bother coming to get your stuff. I left it in the road. Probably all ripped up now..." I was silently laughing to myself. I'd made it pretty clear.

"You-" I was getting bored now. I threw the phone at the floor, listening to her screaming until she eventually hung up. Not the usual thing I'd do, but then again, I'm not the usual me.

Reaching next to me, I cracked open another beer.

It was gonna be another bad night.

~~

~ The amount of pills I'm taking ~

~ Counteracts the booze I'm drinking ~


	3. Chapter Three - Mikey

So there we sat, in Frank's basement, guitars slung over our shoulders and waiting for my brother to arrive.  
I hadn't really expected this to be a problem. I mean, Gerard was the one who was the most enthusiastic about it so, in mine and everybody else's opinion, he should've been there. I was just hoping that he'd gotten stuck in traffic or lost his phone or something. If it was anything worse... I didn't know if he could be my brother anymore.  
~~  
~ And if they get me and the sun ~  
~ Goes down ~  
~ And if they get me take this spike ~  
~~  
I can remember when he'd first come home, pale as a ghost and unusually quiet. He'd walked around the house in silence, looking for our parents or Grandma, and when he was satisfied that we were alone he'd grabbed my shoulders, staring into my eyes with bottomless pits. It was like they had no meaning to them, no emotion. It scared me just to look at him.  
"Mikes..." He'd rasped, sounding like an old man. His breath clouded my face, smelling like something I didn't associate with Gerard. I was petrified. "You can't talk to Mom or Dad tonight, okay?"  
"Why?" I could hear myself whimpering. I was only ten.  
"Oh, for fuck's sake, Mikey!" He snarled. I'd never heard him swear before, and when he realised this his face dropped. Some of that emotion seemed to come back, but then vanished. "Look, I'm sorry... Just... We can watch a movie! Anything you like! Kay, MIkes?"  
I felt bad for him. I felt like it was my fault. My fault that he was upset, even though he seemed to be far from it. I nodded though. I thought that maybe he was just worried, or he'd handed in his homework late. That's what most ten year olds would think in that situation.  
"Mikey?" He looked desperate, and I tried answer but the words were glued to my throat. I recognised that smell. It was what all the back alleys and parks smelled like. It was the essence of New Jersey.  
Drugs.  
"You were supposed to be here when Miss Laysdale brought me home." My voice was quavering, teetering on the edge of tears. "Why weren't you here when Miss Laysdale brought me home?"  
He didn't answer. He just stared into my eyes, looking lost, like he'd wandered into the wrong home. I wished that he had. That this wasn't my brother and I could just close my eyes and open them again to be looking at my real brother, who'd been here the whole time. I tried, and it didn't work. Imagination doesn't work with reality.  
"And why do you smell like Shane Miller?" We all knew that Miller's dad used. Even Gerard knew, and you could see it on his face. For once in his life, he was speechless.  
"I..." He struggled to make any noise, opening a closing his mouth like a fish. I started to walk away, hoping that he'd leave me alone and go up to his room as usual. I just wanted him to leave, but he called after me.  
"Mikes, you don't get it, do you?" I could hear his voice cracking. "You're stupid, you know that?" Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I had to ignore him. This wasn't my brother. This was not my brother.  
But I had to stop.  
Because it hurt too much.  
It hurt way too much and I could feel my chest getting tight and I started to wonder whether it really wasn't my brother and what I should do and whether I should call the police because the real Gerard would never say something like that.  
And then I felt arms around me and hot breath on my ear and I hugged the person back because I was scared.  
"I'm sorry, Mikey, I'm really sorry." He pushed my head into his shoulder, stroking my back with the other hand. I could feel myself start to cry, and he held me by the shoulders and looked up at me through his hair. "Hey, you go sit down, I'll make you some cocoa, and then I'll come talk to you. We can even watch that movie you wanted to watch. Yeah?"  
"Yeah." I mumbled, letting him pull me in for a final hug before watching him go into the kitchen. He slouched more than usual, and he had mud stains all over the back of his jeans. He didn't look the same, and he was almost desperate when he hugged me. It was like he was holding on for his life.  
Little did I know it, he was.  
~~  
~ We're hanging out with corpses, and driving in this hearse ~  
~ And someone save my soul tonight, please save my soul ~  
~~  
When I was twelve it happened all over again, but I was the one who came home second.  
Gerard was on study leave for his SATS, and Mom and Dad had trusted him to actually revise instead of watching Stars Wars all day. When I left this morning he'd had all of his stuff ready on the table, and was already making excuses about 'needing to stay hydrated' as he filled up five water bottles. I'd just left him to it. If he wanted to fail his exams, it was his fucking choice.  
Frank's mom drove me home, insisting after she'd seen how many bags I had to carry. We squeezed Gerard's sports bag, which he'd forgotten when he left, and mine into the trunk, and then me and Frank spent the rest of the drive with rucksacks on our laps. Thank God for Catholic mothers.  
As soon as we pulled up outside I knew something was wrong. Mrs Iero asked me if I wanted to go home with Frank and get some help with my homework, but I said no. I grabbed the bags, waved goodbye and made sure they'd driven off before I opened the door.  
I was met with complete darkness.  
All of the curtains were drawn, and I could only see around five feet in front of me. I dropped the stuff on the floor, reaching for the lightswitch before kicking the door shut. My first instinct was to go upstairs. There was no fucking way Gee had got any work done in this light.  
Fumbling around me, I gripped the banister and pulled myself onto the stairs. The hall light didn't give me enough light to see upstairs, so I'd need to get the landing one on. That was if I didn't trip first.  
I caught the light. Complete silence. I was pretty much petrified that Gerard had just left. He never usually turned lights off, and him and Dad had had a pretty nasty fight the day before. His bedroom would be the best place to go. He wouldn't go in mine. He wouldn't dare. I knocked twice before opening his door.  
He was lying on the floor.  
He was crying.  
He was bleeding.  
But he was breathing.  
I knelt down next to him, unable to speak. I could see his eyes flicker to me. They seemed to say sorry. They seemed to say that he didn't mean to do this, but I knew he did. I'd seen the scars before, but I'd let him feed me the lies he told. I didn't want to believe that my brother would be this depressed. I didn't want him to be the typical dead artist.  
"Gee..." I spoke, cutting myself off almost straight away.  
"I'm sorry, Mikey..." He whispered, but I couldn't stop staring at the blood. There was so much. I couldn't deal with it. I had to get rid of it.  
"No, you're not fucking sorry. If you were sorry you'd get up and fucking help me sort this out." I stood, looking around the cramped space. We had bandages and disinfectant in the restroom. If I could get him to sit up, then I could go and get them and sort him out. He'd be fine. He was going to be fine.  
"Mikes-"  
"Sit the fuck up! Now!" The only way he was going to listen to me was by shouting, so that's exactly what I did. I could see him trying, and watched over him until he'd propped himself up against the bed. After I was sure he was supported, I ran to the bathroom, rooting around in the cupboards for what I needed.  
I had to stop and start breathing.  
Looking at myself in the mirror, I realised just how different I was to Gerard. We looked similar, sure, but in everything else? We were polar opposites.  
He was sixteen.  
I was twelve.  
He was good in school, paid attention.  
I was the class clown, always tripping over and being laughed at.  
I didn't have a future, but I wanted one.  
He had a future, and he really didn't want one.  
We were so different.  
How on earth could we be brothers?  
I snapped out of it, shaking slightly as I hurried back to his room. He looked up at me like I was the only thing he had in the world. Like I was priceless.  
"Right, hold out your arm." He pushed against the air, shaking slightly. I lay his hand on my lap, feeling him grab onto my arm with all of his strength as I started with the disinfectant wipes. I would feel bad for him, but I was too busy being scared to death.  
"Fuck!" He grunted, leaving nail marks on the inside of my wrist. "I hope you know what the fuck you're doing or I swear to God I will kill you."  
"Shut up and deal with it." I finished up one arm while he complained, wrapping the cloth I'd found round the wounds. He was almost hesitant to let me help with the second, but let me when I glared at him and threatened to tell Mom. Then we just hugged.  
We just sat there and hugged.  
And in that moment, I felt like the big brother.   
I felt like the older one.  
Because I was already growing up.  
And Gerard never would.  
~~  
~ Someone get me to a doctor, someone get me to a church ~  
~ Where they can pump this venom gaping hole ~  
~~  
Two years later, Dad put Grandma into a home.  
He'd said that she was too old to look after herself now, and had ignored Gee's suggestion of her moving in with us. He always ignored him these days. They both ignored each other. It was mutual ignorance.  
The real reason he'd put her in?  
So he could sell her house and all of her things to get all the shit he wanted.  
Irritating prick.  
Gerard took me to see her a week after she'd 'settled in'. We parked up outside, got cross-examined by the nurses as we walked in, and a doctor made Gerard sign something. No one trusts young Jersey kids, especially if you look like me and Gee. They already know that you get beaten up weekly, that you like heavy metal, that you don't fit in, and they don't give a shit.  
As soon as we opened the door we knew that this wasn't right for Elena.  
She was up, healthy and having a heated argument with a nurse.  
"I am not wearing that bloody thing." She pointed in disgust at a hairnet the woman was holding. Grandma could be scary when she wanted, and she was certainly bringing that out today.  
"Mrs Rush, everybody has to wear-"  
"Don't you dare tell me what I can or can't do." She looked like she was about to punch the poor woman before Gerard turned her attention to us.  
"Hey, Grandma." Elena's face lit up as she completely disregarded what she'd been doing and charged at us. We were both wrapped in a bone-crushing hug before we knew it, and by the time we were released the nurse had sidled out of the room.  
"Boys! You came!" She looked so happy. It was like we were the first light she'd seen in years. The first sign of hope.  
"Of course we did, Gran, why wouldn't we?" I smiled down at her.  
"Michael James Way, how on earth did you get so tall? You were smaller than me a month ago!" She grinned before turning to my brother. "And Gerard Arthur Way, you have changed! You both get handsomer by the day!" We were both glad of the height difference. If we were any shorter she would've pinched our cheeks.  
"Thanks, Grandma. Want some coffee?"  
"You are godsend." She sighed, sitting back on the bed and watching Gerard go. As an after thought, she shouted after him. "And get it caffeinated! It's like a concentration camp in here with their bloody rules!"   
~~  
~ You put the spike in my heart ~  
~~  
And that's when Gerard stumbled in, drunk as fuck and spouting some nonsense about bees.


	4. Chapter Four - Mikey

"Holy shit!" Ray barked, sliding onto his knees just in time to catch Gee as he fell to the floor. We all sprung to action, Matt jumping over the drums while Frank jumped up from his perch on the amp. I grabbed Ray's guitar from the floor so no one would break it. If Toro moved now, Gerard would knock himself out on the floor.  
"Is he awake?" Iero chewed at his bottom lip, crouching down behind Ray. Matt stood on the other side of my brother, making room for me when I walked over. I knew exactly what Gee had been doing to get into this state, and I knew exactly how I felt about it. I was pretty fucking pissed.  
And that's why, as soon as the fucker opened his eyes, I punched him.  
"Mikey! What the fuck?!" Matt sprang behind me, grabbing my arms as Gee lurched forward, clutching his nose and cursing. There. That should have knocked the alcohol out of his system, at least for now.  
"He was wasted, Matt, he was hardly gonna cooperate. Now, if you could get the fuck off my arms, I'd be pretty happy about it." Frank placed a hand underneath Gerard's head, knowing fully well that the older guy was probably gonna vomit. Ray looked up at me from under his hair, slightly shocked, but then turned his attention to the blood seeping out of my brother's nose.   
"What the hell was that for?" He groaned, curling up slightly and letting the others help him up. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, obviously hadn't brushed his teeth, and that blow to the face had definitely sobered him up.  
"Because you're a dick, Gerard." I clenched my fists, speaking through gritted teeth. "You were twenty minutes late, you're fucking drunk, and you obviously lied to me about meeting up with Matt last night cause he had no idea where you were. So where the fuck were you?"  
"Out... Ah!" My brother glared at Frank as he moved his hand away from where he'd been checking for a broken bone. He was really not getting many supporters.  
"Out where?" Ray took a more gentle approach than me, pulling up one of the amps for Gee to lean against and placing a hand on his shoulder. To be honest, he was definitely the person who'd get the dickhead to talk.  
"Seeing Grandma."  
"Then where the fuck did you get the booze from, Gee?" I burst out, spinning on my heel and glaring down at him. Blood was trickling down his cheeks, like he'd been crying.   
"A store." He was being a fucking smartass, but I knew how to get around that.  
"What store?"  
"Ryan's store."  
Ryan was the guy who sold Gerard weed when he was fourteen and obviously underage. He was the one who'd supplied us dirt cheap alcohol for years. He was the one who'd made my brother unreachable. All because he wanted to get in his fucking pants.  
"Right." I marched towards the basement stairs, started to walked up before I felt hands on my shoulders.  
"Mikey, what are you doing?" Frank whispered, obviously trying to keep our conversation separate from the one that Ray and Matt were having about how to get Gee to a bathroom.  
"Going to teach that asshole a lesson." I started to turn around again, but that just made him tighten his grip.  
"Why?"  
"Why?" I almost laughed, staring into his eyes. "Why?! He ruined our fucking lives, Frank."  
"I get that! But what makes you think you can do it?" He grabbed my fist before I could punch him in the gut and practically disarmed me with one look. "I mean, you're not exactly the strongest guy out there, and you're definitely not as strong as him. Just leave it."  
I breathed heavily for a few seconds, staying tense before letting my arms go limp and folding them against my chest. Frank smiled at me.  
"Boys! I'm going to the supermarket, do you want me to get you anything?" Ms Iero shouted down, and I could almost see the glee on my own face.  
"Just an extra pack of eggs, Ma!" He called, lowering his voice and turning to Ray. "We're gonna get shit done."  
~~  
~ And now the nightclub sets the stage for this they come in pairs she said ~  
~ We'll shoot back holy water like cheap whiskey they're always there ~  
~~  
"Hey! Asshole!" Frank shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth and kneeling on Gerard's chest. The drunk fucker served for something: a stool.  
Ryan stumbled up to the glass, almost like he knew we wanted him. At least he knew his was a dick. I'm glad he wasn't ignorant.  
"Fuck you, Ryan!" Ray almost sang as I launched an egg straight into the glass just in front of his face. He looked pretty surprised, so was stupid enough to open the window, and got raw egg yoke right in his face. Frank was laughing his head off, almost pissing his pants and pointing up at him.  
And that's when Ryan lost his shit.  
"What - the - fuck?!" He went purple, rage covering his features as he stormed downstairs. I saw the glee drop from Ray's face when he realised that we were dead, and had to knee Frank in the face just so he could get to the steering wheel. Ryan may be an ass, but he could be scary when he wanted to be, and he could definitely use our teeth as presents for his girlfriends. Shit.  
"You're fucking dead, Iero!" He seemed to fix his attention on Frank as soon as he'd punched the door open, storming over. I couldn't help but be thankful that I wasn't gonna be the first one to get my ass handed to me. Scrambling over to help Ray, we counted on the midget's trash talking abilities to give us enough time to leg it.  
"Woah, look, guys! A talking asshole!" Frank grinned up at him, hoping that confusing the guy would give us a few more seconds. Unfortunately, Ryan was smart enough to process words of two syllables, so raised a fist to knock the sense out of Iero before catching sight of Gerard.  
"Frank, you're kneeing me in the ribs, you know..." He groaned, trying to turn onto his side with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. He looked like he was gonna throw up when the car started, grabbing onto my ankle for dear life. Just as Frank was about to get a faceful of fist, Ray pulled away, probably trying to break the speed barrier by the amount of weight he put on the pedal.  
"You may have got away, but when he comes back? He's fucking dead." Ryan shouted after us, voice echoing when we skidded round the corner.  
Shit.  
~~  
~ Can you take this spike? ~  
~ Will it fill our hearts with thoughts of endless night time sky? ~  
~~  
Me and Ray had made sure my parents wouldn't be home when we dragged Gerard from Frank's house to my bedroom. He vomited twice, once in some poor old woman's petunias, and once in a gutter outside a bar. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy when I had to go through his pockets for the key.  
"Do you want me to stay? I can help you look after him." Toro asked as we laid him on my couch, watching him curl up into a protective ball and groan something unintelligible.  
"It's fine. He'll just piss you off. Besides, I've dealt with this before." I could tell he sent a glance my way at that last part. When we were kids and Gee would come home drunk, I wouldn't come into school the next day, either because he'd lashed out at me or because he needed looking after and Grandma couldn't come round. Ray knew that, and I could tell he wasn't too happy about leaving me alone now.  
"Okay." He mumbled, already regretting it. "Hey, bitch." He tapped my brother on the shoulder, waiting until he opened his eyes to continue. "Talk to your brother, alright?" He smiled sadly before promptly leaving, pulling his phone out on the way.  
"Mikey?" Gerard croaked, hitting me on the knee to try and get my attention. I looked down at him, deciding to crouch down when he looked up at me like I was a giant.  
"Yeah?" He squeezed his eyes shut, shoving his back further into the cushions.  
"I feel like shit." I laughed, grabbing a bottle of water from the floor and handing it to him. He chugged it, water dribbling down his cheeks as he pulled away, gasping.  
"You look like shit, Gee." He glared at me, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to blink the light out of his eyes.  
"Mikes..." He grumbled pathetically, holding onto my hoodie sleeves and looking like the most grumpy person to set foot on this earth. Seeing how much discomfort the light was causing him, I reached up and flicked it off.  
"What?"  
"Is he gonna kill me?" He whimpered, pulling at a loose thread. I was pretty much speechless. I didn't think Gerard could be scared by something like this. I wanted to comfort him, but to be honest, Ryan probably would kill him if he went back. So there was only one solution, and that was the difficult one.  
"Not if you don't go back there." I collapsed into a sitting position, leaning on the arm of the couch. I was worried.  
"But I have to go back." He turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and letting out his breath in puffs.  
"No, you don't. I'm gonna make sure you don't, and so are Ray and Frank and Matt." I turned back to him, pushing some hair out of his face. He had a fever, but I didn't know whether it was from the booze or whether he was actually sick. I guess I'd find out later.  
Gerard's phone broke the silence, piercing his ears. He curled up, groaning.  
"Fucking answer it." I took his orders, not looking at the Caller ID before answering.  
"Hello?" I mumbled, standing up. I had a habit of walking around the room when I was on the phone.  
"Hello there. This is Jim Samples, Vice President at Cartoon Network. Please may I speak to Gerard?" At his name I looked over at my brother, who was picking at a spring sticking out of the fabric.  
"Um, he's a bit out of it at the moment. I can tell him, if you want."  
"Who is this?" The guy asked, sounded both confused but knowing. It was hard to believe that I was talking to Gerard's old boss, and why he would call him. Maybe he wanted him back. Then that would be the band idea down the drain.  
"I'm Mikey, Gerard's brother." Gee looked up at me with a quizzical look, but I ignored it. He should be able to guess who it was.  
"Oh! Okay. Well, I was just calling to ask why he hasn't been in work for the past few days."  
Well, this was new to me.  
I guess he hadn't quit his job like he told everyone.  
"Um, he told me he'd quit." I caught Gee out of the corner of my eye, just realising who I was talking to and panicking.  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. In fact, that's what he told everyone."  
"Well, tell him he can consider himself fired." He put the phone down, and I turned to the lying asshole that is my brother.  
"What the fuck was that?" I spat through gritted teeth.  
"Look, Mikey-" I cut him off.  
"So you just get all your stuff, come here, tell everyone you've quit, and then expect fucking sympathy?! Was this just to get Dad mad at you? Because you've succeeded in getting almost everyone mad." I went to walk out the room, throwing his phone on the floor when he grabbed my arm.  
"Mikey!" He dug his fingernails into my arms, glaring at me with a venomous look in his eyes. "It's not my fucking fault, okay? You know what happened. I was real shook up, and I told myself that I'd quit and that everything would be okay. I told myself that I could start again, so can you please let me?"  
And then we hugged.  
And I didn't want to let go.


	5. Chapter Five - Ray

We'd finished our first song.  
I almost ran over to Gerard and Mikey's house that morning, my guitar smacking against my spine as I shouted down the phone. I probably sounded like some sort of lunatic to everyone passing. To be honest, I kind of was.  
"I'll be there in five!" I breathed heavily, wincing as my fretboard connected with the base of my skull. Fuck, I should've taken my other case.  
"Dude, are you running?" Gerard frankly giggled, and I could almost see him in my mind raising an eyebrow and spluttering. I knew they would wait for me, but I was excited. I wanted to hear it, and I didn't want to wait a second longer.  
"Fuck you, Way." I grumbled as his giggles turned into barkish laughter. If he wasn't careful he was gonna get punched. I hadn't just forgotten about last week.  
"You're eager." He remarked, obviously doing that signature Way smirk.  
"Shut up." I put the phone down, running down the road. I had to dodge out of peoples' way, shouting apologies while my legs carried me all the way to the house. I'd gotten here earlier than expected. By five minutes, I meant ten, but I guess I had been 'eager'. Oh God.  
Before my knuckles connected with the wood, the door was thrown open by none other than Mikey Way. He grinned at me, the amount of happiness filling his features not suiting a nineteen year-old. Then again, in everyone else's' minds, he was still a kid. Everybody's kid brother.  
"Ray!" For a startling moment, I thought he was gonna hug me, but he just jumped slightly, smoothed his hair back, and ran down the stairs to the basement. I followed, shouting a greeting to Ms Iero and apologising for scratching the paint off of her ceiling with my stupid fucking case.  
"Hey, Toro." Frank held up a hand, feet crashing against the amp he perched on as he watched Gerard scribbling at a piece of paper. I gave him half a smile as I walked over towards the older man, spinning on my heel to take a look at what he was up to.  
It was the New York skyline, and my eyes were drawn straight to the two things missing. The Twin Towers.  
Despite it changing our lives, we hadn't really talked about it much. We didn't really watch the news, and when we did it was usually the fluffy pieces at the end about the parrot who'd learned to play the clarinet or other shit. I'd only heard about it from the old woman next door, who'd stuck her head over the fence and started gossiping with my mom about it at the first opportunity.  
I guess, for Gerard, it had hit home.  
He hadn't really talked much about it, but he was smoking a lot more than he did back when we were teens. He was obviously stressed, and he must've needed to get it out. And he did that in the way he did best.  
Art.  
"Hey, Gee?" I put a hand on his shoulder, waking him from the trance his drawing had put him in and smiling when he looked up at me like a startled puppy. "Can I take a look at the song?" He stared at me blankly for a moment, blinking before he snapped his fingers and pulled out a crumpled piece of notepaper. He handed it to me, spinning round on the office chair he was sunk into and kicking Frank in the shins at every chance.  
I read it as quickly as possible before slinging my case off my back and unzipping it. Gerard looked at me expectantly when I gave him the lyrics, almost like he was searching for my approval.   
"Fuck, let's get to it."  
~~  
~ You're not in this alone ~  
~ Let me break this awkward silence ~  
~~  
It'd been a week and, with Frank's help and his mom's never ending supply of chips and energy drinks, we'd worked out some music and Gerard had almost written another song. Despite the constant interruptions of phone calls from someone Gee wouldn't name, we were doing pretty damn well. And that's why Mikey was taking all of us to see his Grandma.  
I'd met Elena a couple of times when we were kids. I can remember shuffling home with Mikey and Frank to see his weird brother and being greeted at the door by a stern looking woman wanting to know why her grandson had gotten home five minutes late. She was pretty intimidating, but seemed to soften up to me when she found out I knew Gerard. But it had been, what, ten years? Would she even remember me?  
While Gerard signed us in and Mikey chatted to the nurses at the desk me and Frank looked around. The whole place stank of chicken soup and weak tea. The people propped in the chairs looked like their skin was dripping down their bones, wrinkled and pale. They looked like the vampires I'd seen in horror films, but they lacked one thing: death. And they hated it.  
"I hope she doesn't look like that." Frank mumbled to me, pointing out a man attached to an IV. I never wanna get like this. I never wanna grow old.  
"Come on, guys." Mikey tapped us on our shoulders, whispering so we didn't disturb the old people. We followed him and Gerard down a hallway and into a room with a blue door, and I didn't even have to go in before I heard her.  
"Gerard Arthur Way, it's been two whole months, you ass!" She sat up, glaring at Gee before catching sight of me and Frank and smothering her thin lips with a smile. "Oh. Who's this, Michael?"  
"It's Frank and Ray, Grandma, you've met them before, remember?" Mikey looked worried, catching Gee's gaze as they participated in a mental conversation. Elena should've remembered us, according to them, so why hadn't she?  
"Oh." She looked sad for a second, biting her lip before turning back to her eldest grandson.  
"It's only been a month." Gee mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. It looked like al hope had drained from his eyes. He was weirdly sad, a complete opposite to what he'd been an hour before. I couldn't tell whether it was the depression, or the alcohol, or Elena. He was so hard to read.  
"I'm sorry, sweetheart..." She looked through his hair, trying to reach the hazel eyes hidden behind his choppy fringe. She couldn't, and Gerard wouldn't let her.  
"God, it is warm in here! Can I open a window, Mrs Rush?" Frank broke the awkward silence, walking over to the only window in the room. It was about the size of a porthole, so wouldn't let much air in, but it did diffuse the tension. Trust Iero to think fast.  
"It doesn't open. They bolted it shut, God knows why." She stared down at her hands, stroking along the needle marks and rope-like veins that snaked across them. I took one look at Mikey and saw that his eyes were glassy. I didn't know what the fuck was going on.  
"Mom says hi." The youngest Way remarked, twiddling his thumbs. "So does Dad."  
"That's good." The conversation was stilted. Gerard stood in silence, staring at the floor and giving nothing away. Mikey chewed on the inside of his cheeks. Frank stood by the window, slowly edging closer to Gee. I stood there. I felt like it wasn't my place to do anything, let alone talk, so I stood there. Just there.  
Suddenly Gerard walked out, closely followed by Frank, who shot me a worried look. All three of us left in the room stared after him. We must've been in some sort of shock.  
"I'm sorry, Grandma, we gotta go." Mikey choked out, grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me out of the room. He dragged me down the hallway, ignoring the nurses questioning us and just leaving. We ended up next to a giant tree by the home and, as we stepped around it, saw Gerard.  
He was throwing rocks at the tree like ammunition, big chunks of bark coming off after every assault. Frank stood next to him, not even trying to calm him down. Mikey let go of my arm and walked over, leaving me to follow him, which I did. We all stood next to him, every single one of us just watching until he'd finished. Tears were streaming down his face and he turned to Mikey and just hugged him. They were both sobbing, Mikey's glasses steaming up.  
"Why the fuck can't she just remember?!" Gerard choked.  
"I don't know." Mikey muttered.  
And the world broke down.


	6. Chapter Six - Ray

It'd been a month, and I did not expect to be talking to the one guy who could get us concerts in front of the whole punk scene of New Jersey.  
My brother had always been best friends with Mark Saavedra, and yeah, I'd seen him come over with a six pack of beer and gossip about the latest college drop-outs who'd wandered into his basement, hoping to make a fortune, but I'd never had him praise me like this. Not saying that my band is 'super cool' and that he 'can't wait to hear your new songs, man!'. It was like having a celebrity saying that you were better than them. And you knew you were.  
"Dude, what about Pencey? What do you think about us?" Frank spoke up from next to me, grinning and almost begging for praise from the guy. I couldn't help but feel bad for Iero. I mean, his band had been around for almost two years now, and all they'd ever gotten was criticism. Then, when I walk in with one grotty demo filmed half in a bathroom and half in an attic, I get told we're gonna be great. We're gonna succeed. The only problem he had with us was that Matt's drumming was out of time, which we agreed with completely, and I think Frank wasn't too happy with us.  
"Um, same thing I told you last time: you need more practice. And you need to get rid of Jake, for God's sake, he's the worst bassist I've ever heard." Mark almost ignored the look on his face, quickly becoming distracted by the person behind who was yelling about tuning his bass. I couldn't bear to look at him.  
"Let's go, Toro. We need to tell Gee." Frank mumbled, turning around and waiting for me to follow. I took one last look at Mark before I left.  
He believed in us, and so did I.  
Now all we needed was for Gerard to realise that we were important. That we could do this.  
But that was gonna be way harder than it seemed.  
~~  
~ Without a sound I took her down ~  
~ And dressed in red and blue I squeezed ~  
~~  
"Hey, guys?" Frank called to us from the corner of his basement where he was messing around with his acoustic, trying to tune it from what Matt had reduced it to when he'd tried to play it last night. Me and Gee sat by the amps, a notebook set in between us as I scribbled down chords to fit his lyrics, and Mikey was upstairs grabbing some potato chips from Ms Iero. Since he had interrupted the silence in which we were working, we looked up at him, trying to pay attention.  
"Yeah?" Gerard asked, chewing on the end of his pencil and running a hand through his hair. In all honesty, he looked like shit. Much better shit than when he'd first got here, but still shit. He probably hadn't washed his hair in weeks, and I swear he'd been wearing that suit for two months now. It was nothing like he used to be.  
"My band have got a gig on Saturday, and we're looking for a supporting act. I mean, you have enough songs, and you're good enough, so I may have said you'd do it." He hurried the end of his speech, visibly cringing and probably hoping that he wouldn't get punched in the mouth for throwing this at us at such short notice.  
"Shit, man, that's amazing!" Both of us did a double take at Gee's reaction, trying not to have a heart attack. This was not him. I don't know who'd done it, but someone had locked his mind and spirit away in his New York apartment and took over his body. It was like some freaky comic book, but a really fucked up comic book. Like, super fucked up.  
"What's amazing?" Mikey thudded down the stairs, pelting bags of Lays and soda cans at us. "And if you say your hair I am leaving right now, because your hair looks like burnt straw and you know it." A half-hearted kick was sent in the younger Way's direction as he perched on the table, knees twisting inwards by instinct.  
"Frank got us a gig." I looked up at the kid, grinning at the fact that his glasses were almost falling off his nose and his jacket was hanging off his shoulder. Ms Iero must've hugged him. I'm surprised he stood for it. No one hugged Mikey Way. Probably.  
"Oh." He paled visibly, all of a sudden looking like he was going to drop dead any second. Suddenly his shoes were much more interesting than us, and we were practically ignored. Fantastic. Fuck you too, Michael.  
"What's up, Mikes?" Frank stood up, propping the guitar against a useless bike rack. "I mean, I can pull you out, but it's taken us two months to find anything decent, and it'll be even harder for you guys."   
"No, no, it's fine, honestly." The youngest forced a smile, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood.  
"Right. Well, we better get going, Mikey. Mom will kill you if you're not home in time for food." Gerard muttered, pushing himself up.  
"She'll kill you too." He smirked down at Gee.  
"No she won't, 'cause I'm a 'responsible adult' now, Mikester." He made quote marks with his fingers, laughing when Mikey scowled at the old nickname. "I'll drop these round to you tomorrow and you can finish them off." He turned to me, pointing at the lyrics.  
"Okay. See you." I waved, fist bumping him as they turned to leave. Frank smiled, watching them go.  
Around twenty minutes after they'd left, Frank remembered something very important.  
"Fuck!" He snapped his fingers, leaning on the wall for support. We'd been sitting around fiddling with the distortion on his new Gibson, but I guess either he'd cut his finger on the string or he'd forgotten something. I was gonna go with the second one.  
"What?" I looked up from my fingers, trying to figure out if he was going to punch the wall or himself. Probably both.  
"I forgot to tell them, but you'll do it, right?" He pleaded, making puppy dog eyes that he knew were not going to work on me.  
"Fucking what, Frank?"  
"You can't use my basement anymore." I glared at him as soon as the words had left his mouth. Bitch say what?  
"Why?"  
"No, no, no, only until after the gig... and a bit after that... but it's only because I need it... for Pencey Prep... please don't kill me." He backed away slightly, looking scared for once.  
"Fine." I smiled slightly, rubbing at a notch on the fretboard.  
"Thank fuck." He sighed.  
"But you have to tell Matt."  
"You fucking ass!" He knew there was gonna be a catch, just probably not that bad. Matt was not gonna take this lightly. For all I knew, Iero was gonna get death threats. Suck it.  
"Not my problem, dickhead."  
~~  
~ Imaginary wedding gown ~  
~ That you can't wear in front of me ~  
~ A kiss goodbye, your twisted shell ~  
~ As rice grains and roses fall at your feet ~  
~~  
This wasn't the first time I'd walked in on a Way family argument, but it was definitely the worst.  
Both Gerard and Mikey's parents stood across from one another, screaming while the brothers sat on the sofa, looking worried out of their minds. I just hung awkwardly in the doorway, hoping that Donna wouldn't throw a potted plant at me instead of her husband.  
"It's your fucking fault that she didn't tell us, you never go and see her anymore. She probably thought you didn't care!" The mother screeched, fingernails digging into her palms as he face purpled under white blonde hair.  
"I'm busy earning money for us, unlike you!" Don bellowed back.  
Gee caught my eye, edging around the family feud like it was an explosive and ushering me into the hallway. Mikey followed.  
"Hey." The eldest greeted, giving me a painful smile.  
"What's happened?" I whispered as the door was eased shut, catching one final glimpse of a flying ornament.  
"Grandma..." Gerard bit his lip, turning away slightly. "Elena has cancer." Mikey flinched at the word, almost like he'd just been shot.  
"Oh." I itched my neck, feeling like nothing I said would matter, so I didn't say anything at all. I could see the nineteen year old's eyes glinting, and his older brother clenched his fists as his sides.  
I was going to tell them, but they had enough bad news, so I made my excuses and left. When I got home my brothers were arguing as well, not hesitating to drag me in on how Cam couldn't have slept with Jake's girlfriend because he was fucking some other girl that night. I couldn't help but want to punch them.  
As soon as I could, I escaped into the music.  
It was a small piece.  
I called it Romance.  
My romance was with music.  
And it was very fucking poetic.  
~~  
~ Let's say goodbye, the hundredth time ~  
~ And then tomorrow we'll do it again ~


	7. Chapter Seven - Frank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I found out that by putting it on here I gained a couple of reads on Wattpad. Yay for me.  
> ^-^  
> I know this chapter isn't brilliant, but I have been working on it for a while and my girlfriend got mad at me when I didn't update. She legitimately starting rejecting me until I wrote. Thanks a lot, K.  
> So, enjoy.  
> Next one may take a while, but hopefully not too long.  
> Love ya, see ya, bye!

Just by taking one look at Gerard's face, I knew three things.  
He was angry.  
He was scared.  
And he was very fucking drunk.  
"Frankie!" He ran over to me, stumbling over his own feet as he wrapped his arms around my face. He smelt like a dead squirrel, which was probably what the stuff in his hair was. Matt and Ray followed after him, rolling their eyes when they saw the awkward position I was in.  
"Hey, Gee." I patted him on the side of his face, trying to pull him away by the back of his collar. "You ready to sing?"  
"I'm ready for anything, baby." As soon as the last word left his mouth he fell back, leaning on Toro. I didn't know about them, but I was about to go all Costa Rica on whoever had let him get this steamed.  
"Where's Mikey?" I looked over the mess of a leather jacket at the band's drummer, who looked pretty uncomfortable with how close Gerard was getting to his crotch.  
"Cooling off outside." Ray leant forward, watching Gee sprawl out on the floor.  
"He doesn't know any of his shit, man. He's panicking." I could help but expect this. Mikey had only been playing the bass for around three months, and even then he'd been spending most of his time at shitty parties with the guys from Eyeball.  
"Well, I'd better get out there before he legs it." I took one last look at the drunk guy before hurrying out.  
I found Mikey sat against the wall, an empty can of beer in his hand and several others scattered around. I felt bad for him. I mean, even though we were the same age, he would always be the little kid. He'd be that to everyone and, in a way, this was him trying to change that.  
"Getting pissed is not gonna help you remember your parts." He took one look at me, channeling all of the hopelessness he was feeling into once glance. I would've hugged him, but that wouldn't help. He'd probably just kill me for showing him up.  
"Nothing's gonna help me remember. I might as well make them laugh." He stared down at the can in his hand, chugging back the rest of it.  
"The Mikey Way I know doesn't make anyone laugh, yet alone smile." I laughed, smiling at his half-hearted snicker. I placed a hand on his shoulder, slowly taking the cans next to him away. He didn't protest. This was what Mikey was like when he knew he'd drunk too much, and knew that he needed to stop. He was someone you could take care of.  
"I'm hopeless, Frankie. I can't even remember how many strings a bass has." He smiled sadly, pulling his knees up to his face and resting his chin on them. Your typical fetal position.  
"You're not hopeless. You're talented, Mikey, you're just stressed." I crossed my legs, trying to get rid of the cramp coming on in my ankles. "I can help you remember, if you want me to."  
"There's not enough time... It's fine, Frank, honestly. You should be focusing on your own band, you do too much for us." In all honesty, as soon as he said that I realised just how much I'd been thinking that myself. I was probably their first fan. And by first fan I mean creepily obsessed person who helps just a little too much.  
"Well, we have an hour. I think, with Toro and my help, you could get at least three songs aced by the time you have to go on." I smiled at him, trying to show just how much every single one of his bandmates and I believed in him. They wouldn't have put him in the band if they thought he couldn't do it and, even if they wanted to, I guess I wouldn't have let them. I knew My Chemical Romance was gonna be successful, they just didn't know it themselves.  
"Okay. But if you can't then you owe me comic books." He stood up, helping me up from my position. He still looked like he thought he couldn't do it, but not in a homicidal way. At least one of the Ways wouldn't have any blood on their hands tonight.  
"Sure, kid." He punched my arm and grinned before I led him inside.  
~~  
~ These hands stained red ~  
~ From the times that I've killed you and then ~  
~ We can wash down this engagement ring ~  
~ With poison and kerosene ~  
~~  
"Absolutely perfect, Mikey." Ray grinned, hugging his friend with one arm and unplugging the bass with his other. We'd been sat on top of an amp for half an hour, going over as many things as we could while we entrusted Matt with Gerard, and the younger Way had done much better than he thought he would.  
"You think?" Mikey chuckled, blushing.  
"Yeah, dude. Fucking A." I chimed in, jumping out of my seat and brushing my jeans down. "I need to go talk to Pencey, want me to get anything?"  
"Guitar picks." Toro reeled off a whole list of supplies as I walked off, shouting 'fuck you' when he realised I wasn't listening. I could see my own band at the back, all whispering about something but abruptly stopping when I approached. Shady.  
"So, guys, you ready?" I clapped my hands, looking round at all of them.  
"We've been ready for twenty minutes." Neil stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. "But you might wanna go check on the others. I think one of them just threw a temper tantrum."  
I moved back slightly, glancing around for support but receiving none. They all looked as pissed at their spokesperson. "Look, Mikey just needed a little help..."  
"I don't want any of your fucking excuses, Iero!" He spat in my face, softening once he realised what he'd done and taking a deep breath. "Okay... Let's just go up there, do our thing, and then you're not tied down anymore, Frank."  
"Wait, what?" I felt like a deer caught in headlights, which wasn't exactly fitting considering that the people in the car were supposed to be my friends.  
"You're out of the band." John mumbled, and before I could react the owner of the club came up, tapping me on the shoulder.  
"They're on."  
~~  
~ We'll laugh as we die ~  
~ And we'll celebrate the end of things ~  
~ With cheap champagne ~  
~~  
"Hey!" Gerard called, still half-drunk despite Matt pouring a whole bucket of water on him only ten minutes previously. "I know you all want Pencey Prep, cause they're fucking better than us, but you're gonna have to deal with it for a couple minutes." He swung his head round, and I could see that he was trying to figure out whether Ray was ready.  
The guitarist gave him a slight nod, turning to the drummer to count them in. I felt kids elbow me in the stomach from the back of the room, trying to figure out who the hell they were. They waited for a second, and then kicked off into Vampires.  
The whole thing just immediately worked. The crowd, who'd spent a few minutes listening for the feel of the music, forgot that they knew nothing about the band or their message or any of the lyrics. Everything melted into that song, that music, and it swallowed everyone up with the tone.  
Matt worked absolute wonders with the drums, nodding along to it and, for once, forgetting that there were people watching him. Everyone listening was depending on him to get the beat right, to keep it and to set the pace to the heartbeat of the mob. And he knew it. He made a few mistakes here and there, partly because his hair was plastered to his face with sweat, but still kept up that heartbeat. There was no way he was going to let this piece die.  
Mikey aced it, getting everything completely to perfection. You wouldn't have been able to tell that he'd learnt it backstage. He even played it up for the crowd, stomping over the stage to play with his brother and Ray, and making sure to flash a smile at a few of the girls. It was a little awkward, and you could tell how nervous he was when his grin wavered and he wouldn't take his eyes off the strings for a few seconds, but it was still brilliant.  
Gerard was the same fucking show stealer he'd been ten years ago in the school musical. He screamed and wailed, kicking out at the kids in the front row and becoming the madman his song was about. Around halfway through he even stood on the drums, which the drummer put up with for a while before sending a particularly large pulse his way and the singer fell off. But he kept going, just like their message.  
Keep going.  
Ray was like a guitar magician, weaving out riffs and throwing his head back and forth. He hair got in his face, but he grinned through it, singing into the microphone with the older Way. Eventually he threw his pick into the crowd, finishing the last few notes off with his bare hands. There was something animalistic about the way he played, but he carried on with the finesse of a professional. It was unique.  
But there was something missing.  
In between the four parts there was a small role that was vacant. You could hear it in the way they ploughed through the song, in the way that the guitar didn't blend enough, in the way that Gerard would look around for someone and find that all of the band were too preoccupied.   
They needed rhythm, and they knew it.  
So, as the last notes died away and the crowd roared, I slipped out the back. I grabbed a marker, pushing my way into the back room where my band were waiting and finding Gerard's notebook. I scribbled few words before I picked up my guitar, nodded at Neil and went on.  
'I hope the offer still stands. After all, I am your biggest fan. xofrnk'  
~~  
~ Without, without a sound ~  
~ And I wish you away ~  
~~


	8. Chapter Eight - Frank

As soon as I got off stage, I had successfully left one band and entered the other.

 

"Frank Anthony Iero, you motherfucker..." Gerard grinned at me, wrapping his arms around my neck and almost lifting me off of the floor. He started laughing, and the vibrations from his chest made me join in. Soon, all five of us were giggling like idiots, and Gee still hadn't let go of me.

 

"I saw you watching, man." Ray pushed his hair away from his face, shoulders still bent forward. "Thanks for making me fuck up that chord." I stuck my tongue out at him, chuckling when he shook his head and hurried back over to zip up his guitar case.

 

"So I guess I'm in?" I asked, pushing my best friend away from me and looking around at them. Mikey took one look at me and broke out into a grin, nodding his head so hard his glasses almost fell off. "Great! By the way, you picked up some more fans out there. I think they're waiting for you."

 

"Oh shit, dude, really?" Gerard raised his eyebrows, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at his sneakers. Matt spun his drumsticks around, sticking them in the waistband of his jeans when Mikey tried to hit them out of his hands.

 

"Yep. You guys were badass, I don't know why you're so surprised." I grinned, nodding towards the stage door. "You should probably go out there, or you're gonna get mobbed." I watched them look round at each other, everyone's eyes eventually landing on the eldest Way for the final verdict.

 

"Let's go introduce them to our new guitarist!" He smirked at me, letting the others go on in front of him before he turned to me. "You think we could actually do this?" He murmured, looking at me like he valued my opinion more than anyone elses'.

 

"Yeah. I think we can." I smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder before nodding towards the door. "Come on, we need to go out there."

 

"Okay, okay, I'm going." He chuckled as I grabbed his hand, pulling him out to the hall.

 

We were met by around fifty kids, all with ridiculous grins on their faces and most of them trying to get Mikey to sign their tops. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable with it all, which I found hilarious, and kept on looking over at Gerard for assistance. His brother shrugged, sending his signature charming grin at a group of girls and moving over to talk to them. Ray was talking to another guitarist from another local band, probably about how he was gonna replace his own strings later, and Matt was leaning against the wall, not looking too happy about the fact that no one seemed to know who he was.

 

I could tell that Gee had said something about me when I suddenly had more eyes on me than before. There were a couple of Pencey Prep fans who looked pretty pissed, but most of them seemed curious. I didn't do well with curious. I gave them a half-hearted wave, walking over to Mikey and putting a hand on his back.

 

"Dude, haven't you got that thing to do?" I murmured, sending one of the kids a smile.

 

"Oh... Oh, yeah! The... the thing!" Mikey blushed, looking down at me and glancing back at the fans. "Yeah, I gotta do a thing, so..." He smiled slightly, backing away and letting me lead him back to the practice room.

 

"You're gonna have to get used to it, Mikes." I grinned, going to grab a water bottle and chucking it to him. "We're gonna be big, I can already tell."

 

"Sorry, I'm just..."

 

"Awkward?" I laughed when he glared at me, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I get it, and it's fine. I was awkward, believe me. First time I met people who actually liked my band, I panicked so much that my cousin had to call my mom to come get me." He chuckled, smiling over at me. "But don't tell any of the others that. Gerard would fucking eat me alive."

 

"Yeah, but Gee's confident." Mikey sighed, looking down at the floor. "I don't know, man, it's just... He's always been the louder one, even when he was a fucking shut in. He knows how to talk to people and I don't."

 

"Look, who gives a shit? Your brother knows what he's doing. He kinda has to. I mean, he's the lead singer, he can't be all quiet and mysterious, not really." I let out a breath, watching him. "He's gonna find it difficult, Mikey. You've gotta prize the fact that you don't have to keep an image up."

 

"I don't know whether to thank you or punch you." He laughed, looking up at me.

 

"If you punch me, I will break your motherfucking glasses, so be careful." I chuckled, tilting my head. "Just don't worry, okay?"

 

"Okay." He smiled, straightening up. "I'm gonna go smoke. You wanna come?" I shook my head, watching him go before pulling myself up on the table I'd been leaning on and looking out on the others. They were doing great, and Gee had successfully got a few girls hanging on his every word, which was quite funny, considering he looked girlier than they did. Then again, they were probably attracted by the fact that he was still pretty drunk, which was worrying. Sober Gerard, wherever he'd gone, wouldn't take advantage of them, but drunk? I had no idea.

 

I heard a rattling on the outside door, assuming Mikey had forgotten his lighter or something, and jumped off my perch, walking over and pulling it open. I was met by the faces of Pencey Prep, and they did not look happy. Tim glared at me almost instantly, and I would've felt threatened, but I still had a burst of adrenaline from the stage. I wouldn't be scared if the fucking Hulk attacked me.

 

"Excuse me, Iero." Neil muttered, going to push past me, but I blocked him.

 

"What do you guys want?" I narrowed my eyes, folding my arms. "All of your stuff is already gone."

 

"We actually had a bit of a bone to pick with you." John gritted his teeth, glaring down at me. I tried to make myself seem taller, raising an eyebrow.

 

"Oh, really? What?"

 

"You're just gonna go and fucking leave?" Shaun laughed, cocking his head. "Don't even fucking ask us if we're okay with it?"

 

"Well, you see, guys, I really don't give a shit whether you like it or not." I leant back slightly, tapping a rhythm out on my arm. "Our band was going nowhere, and you know it. I did what any sensible guy would do and I left. Deal with it."

 

To be honest, I probably should've kept my mouth shut.

 

Tim grabbed me by the collar, pushing me back until my spine was crushed against the wall. I tried to push him away, and almost succeeded until the fact that he was cutting off my oxygen supply actually hit me and I started choke. Neil came up next to me, smirking.

 

"Well, we would deal with it, but you've left us without a singer. Or a guitarist." He tutted, ruffling my hair. "So we'd rather get payback." I kicked at Tim's legs, hoping to be able to get away, but he just cursed and pressed tighter. I felt like my neck was going to snap.

 

Just as my vision went black around the edges and I was gonna pass out, someone's fist hit the side of Neil's head with a satisfying thunk. He was pushed out of the way and Tim was thrown on the floor, leaving me to half collapse and try and get air back into my lungs.

 

"What the fuck, dude?!" Mikey's voice made my eyes snap open, gulping in air.

 

"I could say the same to you, Way." Shaun stepped forward, getting ready to swing a punch before the rest of my band realised what was going on and burst through the doorway.

 

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Gerard moved in front of Mikey, glaring daggers at the man across from him. Ray looked around for a moment before catching sight of me and running over, while Matt went straight to pinning Neil and spitting curses in his face. "What the hell was that?"

 

"You stole our singer." Shaun muttered.

 

"We didn't steal him: we gave him an offer and he chose us. Deal with it." Mikey clenched his fists at his sides.

 

"Yeah, and no one has any idea why he'd just you faggots over us." Just before he finished was he was saying, Matt launched himself at him, punching him full on in the face. I could almost hear the crunch of his fist connecting, which was almost a bit too relieving. At least he'd be in a bit of pain with a broken nose.

 

The rest of the guys seemed to realise that our drummer could probably kill them all while simultaneously drinking coffee, so, after sending me a collective glare and muttering a few more curses, they filed out. Shaun groaned slightly, clutching his nose as he shuffled away.

 

"Motherfuckers." Gerard murmured, watching as Mikey kicked the door shut behind Pencey Prep before turning towards me. "You okay?"

 

"Yeah..." I coughed quietly, wincing slightly at the pain in my ribs and doing my best to give him an encouraging smile. "M'fine."

 

"Seriously, Frank, I'm perfectly fine with fucking killing them if you want me to." Matt gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes fixed on the door. He looked like, no matter what I said, he'd probably do it anyway, so I made a mental note to make sure he was drunk enough to forget. I didn't fancy too much blood on my hands.

 

"It's fine, really." I glanced up at Ray, who was still looking me up and down. Knowing him, as long as there wasn't any blood, he'd consider me fine. Maybe good enough for him, but not good enough for my mom.

Fantastic.

 

~~

 

~ Oh, how wrong we were to think ~

 

~ Immortality meant never dying ~

 

~~

 

That was probably the first day that Gerard Way followed me home.

 

I'd just walked into my house, been faced with my mom (who'd immediately wanted to know why I was limping and if I needed my inhaler), and just kicked the door shut when it was stopped behind me.

 

"Hi, Ms Iero." He called, biting his lip and looking down at me.

 

"Gee." I hissed. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were gonna take Mikey home?"

 

"Change of plans. I thought your mom deserved an explanation as to why she shouldn't let those bastards into your house." He gave me a small smile just as my mom bustled out of the bathroom, where she'd been frantically searching for pills I didn't need.

 

"Gerard!" She beamed. "How are you, love?"

 

"I'm fine, thanks." He smiled, being the ever-pleasing charmer he often was with my mother. "You?"

 

"Oh, I'm great, thank you." She played with the beads on her necklace, looking up at him. "Why're you here?"

 

"I thought you might want to know why Frankie's not in the best of states." He glanced down at me, smirking faintly at my attempt to kill him with one look. "We got into a bit of an argument with the guys from Pencey Prep - y'know, Shaun, Neil - and it got pretty heated. He should be fine though, I just wanted to make sure that he didn't make up some crap about getting jumped by a squirrel or something."

 

Mom giggled - fucking giggled - and shook her head, looking over at me. "I'm sure he would've told me the truth, eventually."

 

"Mom." I sent her a toned down glare, trying to get her to make him leave or stop giving him moon-eyes or something. Gerard seemed to have caught on to what I was trying to do, and patted me on the shoulder lightly.

 

"Well, I better go. Apparently, I'm making dinner tonight." He held up a hand in a wave, grinning at my mom and turning back.

 

"Bye!" She smiled, all complete sweetness until he'd turned off the path and the door was shut. That was the moment she turned into Momzilla. I feared for my life. "Frank Anthony Iero, can you go even one day without getting hurt? And leaving Gerard to tell me... I mean, that's just rude!"

 

She ranted at me for twenty minutes straight, only stopping when my asthma flared up and she had to grab my inhaler. As soon as she'd made sure I wasn't choking on my own lungs, I was free to go upstairs, heading straight to my room and falling down on my bed.

 

My mother having a crush on one of my best friends was bad enough, but me as well?

 

I couldn't help but think I needed my head checked.

 

~~

 

~ I'll end my days with you in a hail of bullets ~

 

~~


	9. Chapter Nine - Gerard

To be honest, I was quite proud that we'd managed to get so much done in the space of a few months.

 

The guys at Eyeball Records had agreed to help us produce an album after we sent them our demos, seeming to like them even though they'd been recorded half in our bathroom, half in the attic. All of them seemed to know Mikey pretty well, considering that he was a frequent guest at their parties, which meant they were much more lenient with letting us get drunk on the job. That was good.

 

We'd done a couple more shows, with almost all of them ending in a mixture of booze and fans. We did one in a basement, which didn't have the best turn out - four people, one of whom was homeless and tried to sell us a tape of our performance. The other two were just the guys from Eyeball, but there was one man there who we didn't recognise.

 

He turned out to be a man called Brian who worked for a bigger record company. They'd heard of us in the Jersey underground scene and decided to try and pick us up, probably thinking it would be easy. They thought wrong. He took us out, bought us drinks, and then asked us if we'd be willing to join the label.

 

We said no.

 

In a way, I was proud that we'd managed it. Money was always an incentive, and the fact that he'd offered us enough to get us out of our parents houses and into somewhere better than New Jersey was pretty tempting. But we didn't accept it. Because we didn't trust him.

 

He hasn't given up, but I don't think we're gonna let him sway us too easily.

 

But, despite all of the good things that have happened, I'm still not feeling too great. The reason? Frank motherfucking Iero.

 

I can't get him out of my head and it's actually killing me.

 

~~

 

~ I'm trying, I'm trying ~

 

~ To let you know just how much you mean to me ~

 

~~

 

"You know what, Gerard? I'd really appreciate it if you could stop staring at my best friend's ass. It's getting disturbing."

 

I almost choked on my coffee as Mikey spoke, spluttering slightly as I looked over at him. He was laughing. What an asshole.

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I mumbled, balancing my drink on top of a few sketchpads I'd brought home with me and returning to my drawing. For some reason, ever since we'd been at that bar after the show and Frank had mentioned vampire monkeys, I'd been drawing them. I tried to convince myself it was as a joke, but I was starting to think I was getting too invested in him.

 

"Of course you fucking don't." My brother rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up on the table next to me and watching my pencil. "Seriously, Gee, even Mom's starting to notice you've been giving him moon-eyes."

 

"I have not been giving him moon-eyes." I blushed, biting my lip and stencilling in some more monkeys' fangs.

 

"Yeah, you have."

 

"Shut up." I muttered, glancing over at him and putting my pencil down. "Look, even if I did have a crush on him - and I most certainly don't - he'd never like me like that. I mean, he's straight. I'm straight."

 

"Gerard Arthur Way, you're as bent as a roundabout." Mikey raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of coffee. "Even if you do class yourself as straight, you definitely have something with him. And Frank's bi, you know that."

 

"Do we have to talk about this?" I sighed, sitting back in my chair. "You're my little brother, I'd rather not talk about my love life with you."

 

"I'm not exactly your 'little' brother. Still taller than you." He grinned, sticking his tongue out at me. "And fine, we won't talk about it. But if I catch you staring at him again I'm gonna tell him."

 

"I hate you." I mumbled as he stood up, dropping his cup in the sink and turning to face me.

 

"Not as much as I hate you." He laughed, leaving me alone with my sketches. I opened to one of the back pages of my book, biting my lip. It'd come to be something I did when I was nervous, which seemed to be more than ever now, but...

 

I closed the cover over the pictures of Frank staring up at me, taking a deep breath and pulling out my cigarettes from my back pocket.

 

Fuck.

 

~~

 

~ I'll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood ~

 

~ I'll meet your eyes, I mean this forever ~

 

~~

 

Sometimes it seems as if the only thing I can do is continue my romance with drugs.

 

Now is one of those times.

 

I was sat in someone's basement (I had no idea whose), completely and utterly out of it, and I actually felt alive. I felt alive both looking and acting half-dead, but I guess that was the fucked up part. Almost as fucked up as me.

 

Leaning against the wall, breathing in other people's smoke as if my life depended on it. It was like I'd gone back to New York. Maybe I had.

 

Something vibrated in my back pocket and let a heavy hand reach to grab it, pulling it up to eye level and squinting to see it.

 

'Gee? You okay? Mikey doesn't know where you are and he looks pretty worried. xofrnk'

 

My heart did some sort of flip in my chest when I saw who it was from, and I hastily tapped out a reply, yawning.

 

'I'm fucking peachy, dude. And I don't even know where the fuck I am, but it's fricking nice.'

 

'Are you high? xofrnk'

 

'How dare you accuse me of such a thing.'

 

'Gerard, you sound like some sort of medieval knight. You're high. xofrnk'

 

'Shut up.'

 

'No. As you probably know, I'm pretty fucking mad at you. I'm gonna spell this out, okay? Do. You. Know. Where. You. Are. xofrnk'

 

I stopped replying then, turning my phone off and taking another joint that was being passed around.

 

In a way, I wish I'd listened to him.

 

~~

 

~ As lead rains, will pass on through our phantoms ~

 

~ Forever, forever ~

 

~~

 

When I got home at around three in the morning, I was expecting to be met by my mother. Instead, I got Frank, who looked tired of everything. As soon as he saw me, his shoulders seemed to sag even more, and he sighed.

 

"Why?" He mumbled, voice hoarse and eyes staring at a fixed point on the floor. I instantly felt terrible.

 

"Frank..." I meant to carry on, but he interrupted me.

 

"No. I don't want any fucking excuses, Gerard, I wanna know why you felt the need to go out and get shit-faced yet again." He sounded angry, but he just looked sad.

 

"Does that really matter?"

 

"Would I be here if it didn't matter?" He looked up at me, eyes shining. "Would I have stayed up so Mikey didn't go out and try to find you? Would I have lied to your mom about you going to Eyeball to talk to the producers?"

 

"I'm sorry." I whispered, biting my lip.

 

"I don't want you to be sorry, Gee. Just tell me why."

 

"I love you."

 

I couldn't even believe I'd said it. My eyes widened slightly, and I stared at him for a second, my mind trying to backtrack and my voice trying to find the right words to say. There were none.

 

Frank sat there for a second, taking a deep breath before standing and walking towards me. I figured I was gonna get punched or spat at or something, and did my best to stamp down the tiny bit of hope that was just praying he felt the same way. He got right in my face, and I could swear I saw a flicker of sadness before I got pure anger.

 

"Sort your head out, Gerard." He brushed past me, walking away and not even looking back. I didn't realise I was crying until I felt the tears on my cheeks, and I shuffled into the house, going straight down to my bedroom.

 

What had I done?

 

~~

 

~ Like scarecrows that fuel this flame we're burning ~

 

~ Forever, and ever ~

 

~~


	10. Chapter Ten - Gerard

Matt had managed to get us another couple of concerts, which somehow managed to hold the whole band together while me and Frank... Well, we gave up on each other.

I'd really thought that he'd love me back. I guess I just decided that, if I hoped hard enough, everything would go the way I wanted it to go. But it didn't. He didn't. He never would.

I was sat in my bedroom, trying to just ignore everything that had plagued my mind for the past month and scribbling down random thoughts that came into my head. Most of them were, quite honestly, about death. I mean, I'd always been suicidal, ever since I realised just how fucked up the world was, but now? I was worse than ever. In a way, I think I found more comfort in thinking about dying than living.

It sounded creepy to say it, but, in a way, it was as if Frank was my life force. He was usually so... optimistic, I guess. At least, he saw the world in a better way than I did. It felt like I was involved in a disgusting case of co-dependence, unable to function fully without someone who probably hated my entire existence. It made me feel even sicker than I already did.

But oh well. I'd have to learn to deal with my melancholy state, and so would the band. They'd be seeing it for a while.

My grandma had steadily been getting worse, and I felt completely and utterly fucking helpless. The only things that were keeping me holding on? The band, and Mikey. That was all.

My brother sat across from me on the sofa, kicking his legs up on my lap and staring at me until I turned away from the crappy b-movie Ray had leant him and looked at him. "What is it, Mikey?"

"No offence, Gee, but you look like shit."

"Thanks a lot, Mikey." I snapped half-heartedly.

"Sorry for pointing out the truth, but you haven't brushed your hair in two weeks, you've got smudged eyeliner virtually everywhere, and I'm half-expecting you to have frown lines by the end of the week." He dropped the comic he'd been pretending to read, pushing his glasses up.

"Well, if you want me to go around grinning like a maniac, I want twenty dollars and Joker make-up." I sighed, resting by head against the back of the sofa and digging my nails into my palms.

"Don't be an ass. I'm just worried about you." He rolled his eyes. "And so is Ray. Even Matt thinks something's up, Gee, just talk to me." I tried to ignore what felt like a knife in my heart being wrenched when he didn't mention Frank's name. I had no idea if Mikey knew why we weren't exactly best friends, but if he did, he was doing a great job at hiding it.

"Oh, c'mon, Mikes, just leave me alone." I shoved his legs off of mine, standing up. "I'm perfectly fine, I don't need you worrying about me, and I certainly don't need an interrogation when I'm trying to watch a movie. I'm going out." He raised an eyebrow at me as I walked out, going back to his comic. I grabbed my keys, slipping them into my back pocket and leaving through the back door.

At the back of our garden, there were a couple of loose fence panels. I'd never told Mikey about them when we were younger, half out of fear that he'd get hurt and also because this was my place. I had to share everything else with him, and it was nice to have somewhere that was just mine. Only mine. I slid through, swinging them shut behind me and making my way through the trees.

It sounds pretty cliché that this was my hideaway - a forest which almost everyone knew about but never went into, since it wasn't that interesting. The only people who came in here (other than me, of course) were people who wanted to hide something, be it a body or a receipt or even a toy rabbit. But I liked it. Just like they hid all of these incriminating objects, I hid myself.

The last time I'd been here, I was eighteen. Just about to go off to university, I'd practically ran away from the stupid party my family had thrown and I'd come here. I sat, and I carved my name into a tree. It sounds stupid when I think about it, but all I wanted to leave was some proof that I existed. That, if something happened to me while I was away, or I finally decided to end it all, I'd still exist here. Plus, my friend Jake had come up with this bullshit story that I sort of half-believed that when you die, the last thing you wrote on would be where you were stuck for all eternity. It was complete and utter crap, but I liked the idea of it, I guess.

I found a corner by the same tree, completely suffocating in leaves but good enough to sit on without getting mud everywhere. I started picking at the bark, trying to keep my thoughts concentrated on anything but Frank. But, of course, my mind went straight back to him.

I missed him, plain and simple. I missed being able to talk to him about anything, and the stupid arguments we'd have over who was better: Morrissey or Misfits? I missed everything about him - his stupid smile, his laugh, even the crease between his eyebrows when he was confused. And of course I felt way too creepy because the guy was my brother's best friend and he probably hated me but I was still so completely and irrevocably in love with him that it didn't even matter.

He killed me in a good way, I suppose.

And it hurt so fucking much.

~~

~ You left my heart an open wound ~

~ And I love you for ~

~~

Around a month later, we had another show in some kid's basement. I don't know why we agreed to it - we'd expected the turnout to be low anyway, and Matt wasn't too pumped about playing a show to a couple of kids - but it was even worse than we'd expected.

There were five people there - the guy who'd paid us, two kids who didn't know who we were and didn't look like they gave enough shits to find out, some weird guy in a shirt and baggy jeans who kept on grinning at us, and some homeless guy who'd just appeared there. He videotaped the whole thing, coming up to us halfway through and trying to sell us it. Ray managed to stop Frank buying it as a joke, and we were just packing up to leave when weird t-shirt guy came up to me.

"Hey. You're Gerard, right?" He grinned, holding out a hand for me to shake. I studied him for a second, trying to figure out whether he was some guy who was planning to shoot me, before taking it. He shook it firmly, like he was some sort of business man who had to do this all the time. It was weird.

"Yeah. I'm Gerard." I murmured. "Why d'you ask?"

"My name's Brian Schechter, and I have a proposition for your band." He smiled, patting my hand before letting it go and shoving both of his back into his pockets. "So I'd like to take you all out for a drink." I felt Ray come up behind me, guitar slung over his back.

"Who's this?" He asked me, patting my shoulder with his free hand.

"He says his name's Brian Schechter. He wants to take us for a drink." I murmured, looking over at him as he sized the other guy up.

"Why's that?"

"Well, I don't wanna give too much away, but I think you guys are good. And think you deserve an album." He winked, nodding towards the door.

I froze, eyes widening as I swallowed. Shit, was this guy for real? I heard Ray cough quietly, which brought me back to reality.

Brian smirked, looking over at me.

"So, how about that drink?"

~~

~ "I like you, we can get out ~

~ We don't have to stay ~

~ Stay inside this place" ~

~~

About two pints into our chat, Brian had explained to us that he'd heard a lot about our band. He liked our sound, and he wanted to be our manager. He thought he'd got us wrapped around his little finger. I don't think he'd thought about the fact that we might say no.

"So, what d'you say?" He leant back in his seat, sipping at his beer and letting his gaze travel between us. Frank was pretty close to blackout drunk, having downed two pints before we'd even started our first. Mikey had him propped up next to him, chewing gum and occasionally fixing his glasses. Ray was chatted animatedly with Matt, something to do with Marvel. I didn't think Matt cared too much, since he'd resorted to humming while Toro spoke.

"Well, Brian, it's a great offer, but I don't think we're gonna take it." I watched his face drop, looking slightly astounded. I was glad he didn't look pissed. "I mean, you seem really nice, we just don't know whether you'd be right for us."

And then the night carried on, up until the moment where I was throwing up in a gutter and Frank had sobered up enough to hold my hair back and mumble the occasional soothing word. It seemed like feuds were forgotten when you were wasted.

"It's okay, Gee, just get it out." He murmured, rubbing my back as I puked my guts up. Mikey and Toro had gone on without us, Matt having gone home and Brian giving me his number - 'in case you change your mind'.

I stopped a couple of minutes later, groaning in pain and leaning back against him. I felt like shit. I heard him sigh, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tilting my head up to look at him.

"How're you feeling?" He mumbled, checking my forehead. "Cause you look terrible."

"Thanks a lot." I slurred, shifting so I was sitting down on the side of the road. "I feel terrible."

"Your fault for taking so many shots, Gee." He laughed a little, stroking my hair back from my face and suddenly stopping, looking down at him. "Y'know, you look really good when you're almost dead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I could even kiss you." He pulled my arm up around his neck, looking down at me. I felt my heart flutter a little, swallowing.

"Warning: I taste like vomit."

"And that's exactly why I'm not going to." He grinned, pulling me up to stand. "C'mon, let's get you home."

And I couldn't help the little flicker of disappointment in my stomach.

~~

~ Every hour, on the hour ~

~ They drew blood ~

~~


End file.
